EreAni 30 Days OTP Challenge - NSFW!
by Dorminchu
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. Now being re-booted, chapter by chapter! (art by ケツ野郎 on pixiv) (revamp of chapter TWO in progress)
1. a quiet moment

_a/n: Seeing as this is my second most popular series (over 7k views, I can't believe it!) I've decided on re-doing it on account of my own personal vendetta, and also because it's been MONTHS since I updated. Sorry about that, guys! The rules are the same, 100-1,000 words per prompt, but this time there is a twist; 15 chapters are centered in the canon era (labeled **CE** ), and 15 will be a modern/ambiguous setting of sorts ( **AU** ). Some chapters will connect with previous ones, and all of 'em will have at least a little story to go with the smut, because apparently I can't write anything plotless without eventually growing to hate it. You'll see a little abbreviation at the start of each chapter denoting which timeline is which (note the above examples in parenthesis!), but there are other, subtle clues. Info-dump aside, I hope you enjoy the reboot! (If you don't you can always find the original, unaltered versions of these on my tumblr. I'm **dorminchu** there as well.)_

.

 _.01 – Cuddles (naked)_

 _Wordcount – 880_

 _Rating – PG_

 **[CE]**

.

In the aftermath, it's quiet. The air is heated, not quite stuffy.

The window is open; light filters in through the dainty curtains like gold, illuminating particles of dust disturbed. Remaining still, Annie lets herself adjust to the hustle-and-bustle of city life drifting in. It's a far cry from the almost-silence of the Military Academy; surrounded by night-life and the whisper of shabby sheets over many pairs of legs, the sound of hushed conversations about trivial matters in the dark.

Here, both bed and sheets are finer. She'd almost felt sorry for Eren the first time he laid eyes upon her quarters; likewise, when he'd confessed that the Regiment saw fit to keep him in some abandoned castle she wasn't surprised, but nevertheless felt something vaguely akin to sympathy.

( _"It's nothing I can't handle,"_ he'd added quickly, as though assuming the worst from her expression; though Annie had kept her answer impassive:

 _"I suppose that's true."_ )

Annie doesn't mind the sweat cooling on her skin as much as she ought to, though there is part of her that wants a shower. Another part, closer to her fluttering heart, wants to hold him close.

She masters that impulse. Her eyes dart to his face as he stirs.

"You're still awake?" he mumbles. His voice is low. Gruff, but reassuring.

Annie's mouth curls. "Can't sleep."

"Oh," says Eren softly. His eyes wander over her, uncharacteristically meticulous, like he will never be able to look at her enough. Annie shivers, averts her gaze elsewhere, at a loss for how to rationalise this intimacy, how the simple, inexorable weight of his body next to hers brings such peace.

His hand slides up her naked side to bring her closer. Annie wonders if it's possible to miss someone when they haven't left you.

"D'you feel better?" he asks.

Annie nods. He seems content, then, tucking his face into her clavicle. Idly, she cards her fingers through his hair.

It's startlingly easy, sometimes, to put the Mission out of her mind for a little while and pretend that things can be different. It should be sickening, how quickly she's able to fall into place with this boy. But Jaeger is not a simple boy, not anymore. Enlistment into the Scouts has altered him; he's a shade closer to a man with the weariness apparent in his eyes and his scowl more pronounced.

She remains the same as she was when they parted ways; cold and cynical, seemingly unaffected by the horrors of war.

( _"You'd hate it here,"_ she'd told him once, in a previous situation similar to the one at present. Eren had looked pensive, then, smoothing back her hair.

 _"Yeah. But I'm where I want to be. And as long as_ you're _happy, Ann — that's all that matters, isn't it?"_

She'd wanted to laugh, or scoff, or perhaps cry; none of it came naturally.)

"Ann," he mumbles after a pause.

"Mm?"

"I have to go."

"The officer won't care."

It's mostly true. The security in Stohess's own Military Police HQ is lacklustre at best; and that's in spite of Marlowe's officious nature. All of the superior officers hate him.

Eren scowls. "That's _your_ people. Mine'll kill me if I'm late again."

Annie smirks. "You think they won't know what you've been up to?"

He flushes, jaw set, and growls: "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" Her tone is casual.

Eren regards her in silence, his agitation giving way to awkwardness.

"…I don't want to get you in trouble."

Annie snorts. Loudly, and without effort to hide the noise. "You're _kidding_."

But he isn't, she realises. He still looks uncertain as she leans back into the mattress, totally at-ease. Annie says: "A lot of stuff works differently, here." The back of her hand brushes his cheek in simple reassurance.

Eren huffs, head inclined to meet the gesture, his mouth chapped against her knuckles. "So? Doesn't change the fact that they'll probably feed me to the horses or somethin'."

Annie sighs and says: "Horses don't eat meat."

"Whatever," Eren mutters. "You know what I meant."

A kiss laid to her brow and he departs; she does not reach for him. Keeping her body slack, unhindered, her head tilting just so, one eye trained on him, watching him redress, studying for mannerisms. She observes the process of his hands on his shirt and belt. Feels something coil hot and sedate in her belly, like sense memory; leftover desire.

Annie makes a funny little noise in the back of her throat, like she's caught off guard.

Eren glances at her, ever perceptive.

Her thighs shift in a way that is not quite unnoticeable. He falters. Then tears his eyes away, face somewhat pinker.

Smirking, Annie leans over, retrieving her shirt from the floor. Slips it on, legs crossed much more sensibly.

"Will I be —?" _seeing you_ _soon_ , Annie starts to say, biting her tongue before she can get the words out, because when has she ever tipped her hand _that_ far?

"I'll be back," Eren says, facing the door. "I dunno _when_ , but…." He turns, offering a hopeful glance, a grin.

"All right," says Annie, watching him go. When the door closes, she falls back with a wistful sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

She can wait.


	2. First Time (CE)

a/n: Doing things out of order, just 'cause. There are quite a few stories out on the web that are centered around Eren and the Female Titan, but I notice no one's really done much with the opposite; i.e. Annie and titan!Eren (although that might have a lot more to do with how humanistic Annie's Titan is as opposed to Eren's nightmarish elf-monster thing). Regardless, it gave me a good excuse to explore Shifter physiology and unconventional circumstances — after all, what's the good in **Attack on Titan** without any Titans?

* * *

 _.02 - First Time_

 _Wordcount: 1,000_

 _Rating: R_

 **[C.E.]**

* * *

Annie Leonhardt claws her way from the remains of her own crumbling shell into silvery light. She's careless, leaving a boot and her jacket behind. These are replaceable.

Stumbling to her feet is an act which rends countless threads of sinew. Her head tilts back as rain impacts in little pinpricks up and down her skin.

She's not alone. The shadow of the beast looms overhead.

Looking up, familiarity brings a subtle smile to her face, and she clambers into the outstretched palm without hesitation or fear. She's lifted to eye-level, 'til she's swallowed up in shadow, shielded from the elements by a mass of dark, shaggy hair.

She speaks: "I've been thinking."

Eren makes an inquiring noise.

"It's rather stupid, actually," Annie says. "I won't be offended if you laugh." The tentative understanding that is slowly dawning in the Titan's eyes is cemented when she states, "It's really _you_ , that I want."

To demonstrate her conviction, she unbuckles her remaining boot and starts working with the straps of her manoeuvre gear.

Eren stares, thunder-struck, as she undresses. Gooseflesh ripples over bare skin in the absence of cloth.

"I've been — thinking about you for some time, actually," Annie confesses. "Does that sound weird?"

He offers her an ambiguous huff.

"You don't have to answer that," she adds, while heat creeps from her face and down her naked throat. It's easier to deal with these matters when they can talk and she doesn't have to stumble over her own thoughts. Everything is easier when he's not fifteen metres tall.

Never one to be side-lined, Eren makes a soft noise, like a croon but lower, much lower, not quite human in register. The sentiment is unmistakable. Annie swallows hard.

"I trust you," she tells him simply, sinking backwards — his Titan's skin surprisingly warm against her own, every inch of him a pyre that does not burn. His fingers close beneath her, like he's cupping water.

Annie's fearless — ostensibly — as her legs fall open and her hands wander. She hums, then starts to pant, pale eyes fluttering as they fix on him.

Eren watches all of this in protracted silence.

"Oi," she says, half-grinning, "I'm up here."

His attention shifts back to her face, albeit a little hazily. It's bizarre to recognise all these familiar little quirks upon the Titan's otherwise grisly features.

"You can touch me," she invites. Eren leans in, gaze narrowed in concentration. Annie reaches out to touch his face; it's just as warm as the rest of him. She presses a quiet kiss to his nose and he blinks.

"C'mon," she murmurs, laying down again. "You've got me. Don't keep me waiting."

A low growl escapes his throat and about half-a-metre's worth of slick tongue unfurls from the flat and lipless maw, more grey than pink. She stops moving and stares at it, transfixed in her apprehension.

He could kill her right now and it'd be effortless, an honest mishap. Acceptance is reluctant to settle in her chest.

Without looking away, she stresses: "Slowly."

Eren sighs, emitting a thin cloud of steam through flat teeth. He descends in the same breath. Annie jolts at the movement, hands fisting in his hair. He hasn't even touched her yet. Tongue slithers forth and instinctually, she's shying away but there's no-where for her to go.

Contact is hot and sinuous and she yelps, voice cracking slightly.

He stops without retreating, and her heart hammers, caught between the initial shock and (perhaps more alarmingly) the ache of loss.

"Hah? What're you — come back?" she blurts.

Eren makes another crooning sound, evidently confused.

"I'm fine," she reassures, "you startled me, that's all —" trailing off when a good few inches of muscle surge against flesh, like he's testing her.

Annie moans. His response is gruff, chirpy. Like he's amused. Or aroused. Possibly both. It's hard to tell.

Both her hands open, the tips of fingers kissing his fevered skin. "Wait, Eren."

"Rrrm?" His eyes are trained on her as she gets shakily to her feet.

"C'mere," she says hoarsely, crooks two fingers for good measure.

He's slow to oblige, still leery of harming her; Annie's never been so grateful for his concern before. She sidles in, as close as she can possibly be. Another half-foot of grey flesh glides in-between her thighs and belly. She grunts, attempting to acclimatise, then, bracing herself against planes of skin: "You gonna finish me like this?"

Eren groans, the sound reverberating through the air and within her chest, her bones. It must be torture to be stuck in there, wrapped-up seamlessly inside layers of stifling, bloody tissue, maybe with a hard-on and nothing to do about it; the idea is so ludicrous that Annie wants to laugh. Even now her sense of panic won't quite elapse — pressing her fist to her mouth so hard she can feel teeth scrape dull against knuckles, praying to God she doesn't accidentally fuck up and Shift but he's gentle in the way he holds her, like some fragile bird or a shiny beetle, gentler still in his affections.

She ends up doing most of the _work_ , if it can be called that, while his rhythm remains cautious, continuous. Eventually her knees buckle and Eren's the only thing holding her up, coaxing her back down into the centre of his palm, pinned and writhing. He bows his head, breath washing torrid and scent-less over her skin. The sheer heat of them combined is nearly unbearable — Annie knows she ought to be more concerned but somehow isn't, unable to articulate past helpless little noises.

When she comes it's a shuddering, inescapable rush while the world turns to white noise. She's drifting now, the air heavy with steam, rain-fall a perpetual, subtle hiss in her head.

The Titan draws away, pointy ears drawn flat to its skull. Delirious, Annie raises the back of her hand to brush its jaw. "Said I trusted you," she mumbles.

Relief floods its grim visage. Annie can't help but grin.

* * *

a/n: Here are some things for your consideration before you ask me why the heck Annie didn't get crushed and/or eaten during the process. And I mean eaten in the literal, killing sense…though it makes for an _awesome_ double entendre, amirite? …wow, that was so immature okay, for real:

- _Titans are unnaturally light-weight_. This is in reference to Hange's comment in chapter 20 of the manga. It could be inferred, therefore, that while Eren's freaky Titan tongue is indeed still fairly dangerous, it's not as heavy as it appears to be. This applies to the rest of him.

-In particular, chapter 31 of the manga: by this point, Eren seems to be getting a relatively good handle on his Shifting abilities. He could build a small house and follow most spoken commands with (initially) no problems. Dexterity/comprehension of speech would be _vital_ , especially in this kind of scenario.

-Despite all of this information I've established, I think it's important to note both parties seem fairly nervous. It's _also_ important to note that they live in a crazy world where people get eaten by large, humanoid creatures, and the fact they can BOTH transform gives this scene a whole new layer of nuttiness.

-And as for the whole emphasis on the Rogue Titan itself, I took a lot of inspiration from a quote by Isayama in which he says something to effect of wishing could have made Eren's Titan "creepier". :D

 **Tl;dr -** Objectively, it's just a couple of super-humans messing around with their powers for shits and giggles, albeit in a very… _exceptional_ fashion. Yes, I put way too much thought into this. But what do you think? Was this a mistake, or should I write the inverse of this scenario – titan!Annie/Eren – at some point?


	3. 03 Dom-Sub

_a/n: So the people have spoken, and the feedback on chapter two has been...mixed, to say the least. I can't say I'm all that surprised, to be honest. It was certainly out of my usual element, but it was a ton of fun to try something totally off-the-wall._

 _So clearly the best course of action is to write another one of these, but with regular humans this time._

* * *

 _.03 – Dom/Sub_

 _Wordcount: 1,000_

 _Rating – R_

 **[C.E.]**

* * *

Eren stands in front of the Stohess Military Police HQ with a cautious sense of accomplishment.

No one will meet his eyes, and while that should be reassuring in its own way, it isn't.

He knows he must look out-of-place in his non-combatant garb. But he's made it his far, hasn't he?

"Oi." There's an MP addressing him, with light wavy hair that just reaches her shoulders and a keenness to her hazel eyes. She's probably just a few years older than he is — but an MP is an MP, and Eren regards her warily. "You lost, kid?"

"I'm waiting for someone," he says automatically, then realises how stupid this sounds out loud. The MP sighs, as though Eren's said something quaint instead of cringe-worthy.

"Can you read, citizen?"

"What? Of course I can read," Eren says, still more annoyed at himself than the inanity of the question.

"Then I expect you know where you are. This isn't a safe-house we're running. You'd best be on your way before someone escorts you out."

Eren's struggling to come up with a snappy retort, but thankfully, he doesn't have to. Someone else speaks for him:

"He's with me."

Eren's heart jumps at the sound of that voice. The emotion must be evident on his face, because the MP blinks, looking from him to his saviour, clearly intrigued.

"You haven't told me about this one," she says shrewdly. "Am I supposed to make an exception for him?"

Annie doesn't reply, doesn't even acknowledge any onlookers; she just grabs Eren by the arm and steers him purposefully in-doors, heading in the direction of the staircase before he can take in his surroundings. It's only when they're safe inside her room that Eren tries initiating conversation:

"Was that a friend of yours?"

Annie scoffs. "Hardly. How long were you out there?"

"Not too long," he says. "I'm glad you showed up when you did."

"I'm glad you could make it," Annie replies, short and simple. "You weren't very hard to find."

"Hunh?"

"You stick out next to all those MPs."

"Well, I couldn't exactly show up in uniform," Eren says, feeling she's being a bit unfair.

"Of course," says Annie distractedly, closing the door behind her. "That's not the problem, anyway."

"Then what is?"

"It's not what you're wearing, Jaeger. It's the way you act. They can tell you don't belong."

"I really _don't_ , though."

She glances his way; contemplative, just shy of cold. "You're resourceful. Figure it out."

Eren bites his tongue. Even when they're a story above the populace he can hear voices drifting in and the other MPs below. Despite Annie's insouciance, he can't quite relate.

"You could always come in through the window," she says, somewhat abruptly.

"What?" Eren says.

"The window." She inclines her head for emphasis. "If you don't want to be harassed by my associates."

He grins. "Are you serious?"

Her shoulders lift. "I've never tried it, but I bet it would work."

Eren's still hung-up on the question of whether or not this hypothetical window has a functioning lock, but Annie's quick to close the space between them. Words dissolve in his mouth. She pulls away, shrugging out of her jacket, already rucking up her shirt. The second she's unhindered, he's reinitiating contact in a bid to match her fervour. He takes her by the waist; swept off her feet, her toes brush the floor. She makes this little noise that could be alarm and he quickly sets her back down.

"Ah," he mutters. "That was…"

"It's fine." Leading him backwards towards the bed; her leg catches his shin with enough force to topple him and then he's tangled up with her. Her weight shifts, the world flips and rights itself. Annie situates herself atop his chest in one fluid motion, a display of delicacy that is almost disarming, but Eren knows better than to underestimate her.

The room is definitely nicer than what he's grown accustomed to; long stretches of dark cellar walls and the smell of mildew. His hands rise to her hips. Their eyes meet, and Eren wonders if they're each thinking the same thing.

"I'm not going anywhere," he offers, and though it seems obvious to him, she perks up and he forgets his awkwardness.

"You're right about that," she agrees, nonchalant as ever, but there's a gleam in her eye that wasn't quite as prevalent beforehand. "What am I going to do with you?"

Eren's grunt is decidedly noncommittal. "Whatever you want, I s'pose."

Pause. She's rising on her knees, hips at eye-level. His mouth goes dry. Annie reaches out, fingers brushing his cheek, betraying some hint of tenderness.

"Come here," is all she says.

He responds by burying his head in her lap, kissing her open. She grunts, fingers threading through his hair, readjusting but never truly pliant.

It strikes him, how good it is to touch her, turn over all these little secrets buried in smooth, yielding flesh. Drawing circles with his tongue 'til she squirms against the contact; he breathes her in.

"Here…" she pants, leaning back, "I need you to—" Eren sinks, and her whole body arches. " _Fuck_ ," she hisses.

"Hmm?" says Eren.

Her hand curls, knuckles digging lightly against his scalp, nails bite into skin without breaking through. She's petering off; she must be close. An aggressive clout resounds against the wall above him; Eren's more caught off guard by her moan than anything. He retreats, head gently spinning; she's quick to catch him.

"I didn't tell you to stop," she says hoarsely. Her other hand is clenching and unclenching. The source of the previous disturbance occurs to him.

"Are you O.K.?" he asks. "And who said I was stopping?"

"You're in no position to be running your mouth," she retorts. Apparently they aren't going to have this conversation.

He frowns, because the other bit didn't make a lick of sense. "Um. What?"

Annie rolls her eyes, but her tone is somewhat crestfallen: "Get over here."


	4. 04 Half-Dressed

a/n: FIRST AU CHAPTER! This one was inspired partially by a lovely piece of fan-art by one artist kenkenchan, from tumblr. kenkenchan dot tumblr dot com slash post/152115634742/well-this-was-supposed-to-be-nsfw-but-i-ended-up (Replace the dots with . and the slash with, well, a /. Delete all spaces!)

* * *

 _.04 - Half-Dressed_

 _Wordcount: 420_

 _Rating: PG-13_

 **[A.U.]**

* * *

Wake up and the bed is empty. Staring at the ceiling, there's not a sound except for her own, quiet breathing and distant, passing traffic. The subtle hiss of the shower reaches her ears.

Roll over to face the door — slightly ajar — gazing at the impression his body has left behind. Options, considered. She could wait. Or join him. Could throw on a shirt first. In the end, she compromises. Finds her hoodie crumpled lonely on the floor and slips it on, no bra.

Trip to the bathroom is quick, and she's in-and-out with an ease that only comes with being comfortable enough to share that kind of space.

She's already in the kitchen before the shower stops. Rifling through the fridge, she catches the return of footsteps. Annie stops and waits, long after he's actually stepped into the room.

"Morning," she says, without looking up.

"Hi," says Eren.

Close the door, turn around and he's there, in a towel and, as far as she can tell, nothing else. Their eyes meet, and he offers her a smile. Something — like a shiver but warmer — chases up her skin, leaves her tingling as she turns back to the fridge, but she always keeps him in her peripherals. The kitchen is tiny, she thinks.

His eyes stay trained on her. She's pretty sure he's only testing her, because it's not like she hasn't resorted to similar tactics in the past.

Play the waiting game; uncertainty comes not from physical touch, but the promise of it. The trick to living with someone else is that you learn them, after a while. The catch: they'll quickly learn you.

But Annie's not entirely sure she is ready to accept that level of fragility — at least, not completely. So to divert herself from that fact, she reaches up and grabs his shoulders, kissing him. His skin is warm, hair faintly damp. Eren hums, catching her waist, her hips, cupping under her ass and she's lifted, sitting on the counter, legs parted around his waist.

The towel is held-up loosely by their bodies and he leans back, one hand on her thigh and the other sneaking up her shirt and over naked flesh; a smirk crosses his mouth. Before he can comment she's kissing him again, trying to get him closer. And Eren doesn't make her wait; he presses slow against her, hauling up her shirt to lay her bare. Her mouth trails down, open against his throat as he gasps.

"C'mon," she whispers. "I can't wait."

* * *

a/n: Part I of II. ;)


	5. 05 Public Place & On the Desk

_a/n: Here's number five! Sequel to chapter four IS in the works, but it's kinda slow-going. And I have to admit, my first attempt at writing for the prompt_ _ **public place**_ _was total lame-sauce. So here's a_ legitimately _public place! ...It's not as kinky as it sounds, honestly. The kink is all in the mind. *wiggly fingers*_

 _Here's a fun fact: I was wrong about movie ratings in the past: most notably, in regards to the f-bomb. If the word "fuck" is used more than a few times, and/or in a sexual context, instant-R rating. Also, apparently showing certain sexual positions that are classified as "aberrant", which basically boils down to anything that isn't regular old missionary sex, you get an NC-17 rating. Think oral sex, full-blown nudity, or even the amount of time people spend grinding on each other! Seriously, that last one is kind of ridiculous, at least to me._

 _Anyways, that's why the rating has changed! Hehehe._

* * *

05\. Public Place + On the Desk

Wordcount – 2,000

Rating – NC-17

[C.E.]

* * *

It's another nice after-noon in Stohess. The sun shines in with a kind of quiet intensity that encourages drowsiness. The daily traffic is languid, and the people inside and out say little to each other.

Annie spends her hours working in one of the offices within HQ, her attention drawn upon the purpose of her consignment: paperwork. Lately, the officers have been in the habit of assigning her stationary jobs as often as possible. Maybe it's because she'll do it without complaint. Or, more likely, it's just due to the fact that too many criminals have been turning up in Stohess's hospices with serious, unmistakable injuries. Her one tried-and-true method of stress relief has been taken away from her on account of political vice.

The trouble really begins when Eren shows up, accompanied by a guard, and Boris, who says nothing but keeps stealing curious glances between the two of them.

"Am I supposed to be surprised?" Annie asks, unsure exactly who she is asking, and feeling like this day is going to be a lot less simple than she originally anticipated.

"He asked for you," says Boris flatly. "Wouldn't leave well enough alone."

Eren looks annoyed. While Annie can't blame him, she wasn't expecting him so soon—at all, to be more truthful.

"The kid can stay," says the guard, hardly looking at any of them, "as long as _you"_ _—here, he looks meaningfully at Annie—_ "complete your assignment by to-night. I don't care what the hell you get up to afterwards."

This last line is delivered with an undertone that Annie certainly does not like, but she knows that keeping her mouth shut will do more good than not. She just says: "I'll get it done, sir."

"Wonderful," says the guard, and departs without looking back. Boris shrugs, and soon follows suit. Silence settles in their wake until Annie breaks it:

"So, you came back."

"Yeah!" says Eren cheerfully. "Said I would, didn't I?"

"You did," says Annie. "I wasn't expecting you so early."

"Oh, is this a bad time? I can leave," he says.

"You don't have to leave," she says, a little too quickly than she ought to.

"All right," Eren says, sounding relieved. "Finding you wasn't easy."

"You sound surprised," Annie says. "The people here don't like outsiders butting in."

"About that: d'you think they're on to me yet?"

Annie shoots him a look of disapproval, but says nothing.

"Sorry, that wasn't—"

"Please stop talking," Annie mutters.

Eren humours her, and chooses to spend time walking around the room, taking things in. He's studying the bookcase set against the wall opposite when she addresses him, without looking up: "Don't touch anything."

"I wasn't going to," he says, but takes a step back.

Annie can feel him staring at the back of her head for what must be minutes. She knows that if she turns to check he'll look away. It's not Eren's fault she's unable to blow off steam as much as she'd like, but he isn't helping matters. She's not going to dwell on it, anyway — else she'll be even more liable to do something reckless. By the time he ambles over to her she's trying her damndest to ignore that thought.

"Jaeger," she drawls, as though only just noticing him.

"What are you up to?" He sounds genuinely curious.

"Working."

"I can see that."

Silence. She waits for him to say something else. He doesn't. Fuck, she doesn't need the aggravation.

"What are you working on?" Eren asks, standing behind her now.

"A report, concerning the current output of Yarvil's cultivation this month," Annie says, reciting this statement word-for-word and doing her best to keep any-and-all emotion from her voice. "Very dull stuff. You wouldn't be interested."

The room is hot — she contemplates opening the window.

"You're trying to dismiss me," Eren says slowly.

Annie shrugs. "What are you going to do about it?"

His knuckles brush her shoulders. She stiffens at the contact. Eren desists.

"What do you think you're doing?" she mutters.

"Nothing, yet."

The _yet_ makes her hesitate. She stares at the information on the parchment before her without taking in a single word. The longer he stays stationary, the harder it becomes to stop herself from lingering on how easy it would be to let things play out. The door is locked, but that doesn't worry her. It's not like the superiors are going to care.

"Then why did you come here?" she asks, feeling slightly exasperated for a variety of reasons, none of which she is particularly keen on addressing.

"I wanted to see you," he admits. "Unless…you _want_ me to, uh. Take your mind off things. Because I don't mind, you know."

Is this his idea of a proposition? It's awkward, sure, but recognizable, and all the more genuine for it.

"Are you really coming on to me?" she asks, trying for a drawl.

Silence for a moment, then: "Erm. Yes?"

"Don't fuck with me, Jaeger," she growls, gripping the pen like it's a weapon. " _Are_ you, or are you _not_?"

"What, coming on to you?"

She's reached a point where she can't always tell if he's serious or not, and that alone is infuriating. Her face goes hot and her legs press together involuntarily and she stews for about half-a-minute, because it isn't _fair_ that he can push all her buttons and not even know about it half-the-time—worse still is the possibility that he's figured her out.

She glances up at the door and finds it shut. She keeps her head down, now, gnawing her lip.

"Annie?" His voice has died down to something low and serious.

"You can leave, or you can stay," she mutters. "Pick something."

Grinning, he says: "I just did. Now I'm waiting to see what you'll do."

"You're fucking with me," she accuses, turning halfway around to scowl at him. He beams, but does not deny this. Her face goes hot again. She wants to hit something but can't.

 _Fuck it_ _, she thinks_. The chair is kicked back with a sharp _screech_ on polished floorboards and she's on her feet, in a flash, kissing him before he can say much more; it's an aggressive endeavour, somewhat messy, all tongue and teeth on her part. He's quick to catch on. They hardly break apart as he coaxes her back against the table.

"Have a seat," she tells him, slightly breathless and not in the mood to explain things. Eren looks mildly confused, then his calf comes into contact with the aforementioned chair. All it takes is a little push, and he sinks down without much trouble. Without a word, she gets to undressing. Eren moves in to assist.

"Oi," he mutters, "what about the window?"

Annie blinks, realising said window is less than a metre from them. She leans over and draws the curtains shut.

"There," she says. "Happy?"

Eren reaches out to her wordlessly. In a moment she's back upon the desk and he's rucking up her shirt, mouth on skin well before she's naked, but she doesn't care, gasping quietly, hand in his hair, bringing him close.

"You're gonna have to be quiet," he breathes, drawing back, thumbs in her belt loops.

Annie snorts, intentionally loud, right against his neck. Once she's trouser-less she's pushed down, slow but sure, spread-eagled upon the sun-warm desk. He swallows hard, taking her in, bravado temporarily forgotten.

"Well?" she says.

"I was going to ask about the papers, actually," he says, looking suddenly flustered. "Aren't they important?"

Annie laughs. It's more of a snigger, really, and sounds horribly uncharacteristic but what does it matter. "You're asking me this now."

He frowns. "You could at least, I dunno. Move 'em out of the way first."

She sits up and kisses him so he'll stop talking. He seems to get the message, lifting one leg astride his hip.

"If it mattered, I would've done something about it," she assures, quickly, because she needs to be touched, more than anything else. She brings her hand down to take care of herself. Eren stops to watch. "You can touch me," she adds, parting to him for good measure.

He obliges without much coaxing; his touch is heavy, curious. It's all the stimulation she needs. His thumb is quick to find purchase; Annie whimpers. His teeth bare to a grin.

"You're pretty wet," he whispers, sounding far too happy about the notion. It'd be easier to deal with if he was smug, but he's beaming.

"Will you shu—hah…" clutching at his back, panting softly. He doesn't let up, stroking her with a kind of fervent purpose. "C'mon," she breathes at last. "I can't wait."

His fingers retreat. He draws back, already fumbling with his own belt. Approaching her, his trousers end up bunched around his legs. As soon as she's able, she's got one hand curled round him. He groans a bit but doesn't protest as she guides him against her.

Eren sucks in a breath. "Ah. This is…kinda risky, you know."

She glances up from the matter at hand. "What, now?"

He exhales, long and low. "Just thinking that we 'oughta consider some, y'know, precautions—"

"The officer doesn't care if you're fucking me," Annie says shortly. "But I do."

She feels him twitch and stifles a noise. A protracted pause ensues. Eren looks disconcerted, but also somewhat pleased by the revelation. He grabs her thigh and her hand around his cock, starts to push—Annie sighs, arching up to meet him. He grunts softly, pulling her in by the hips without warning.

She makes a sound like _unf_ and Eren curses, doesn't stop 'til they're flush together. She scrabbles at his back for purchase. He looks dazed, vaguely euphoric.

"Jaeger." Heels bumping the small of his back, she's breathless.

"Ah?"

"Come here," she murmurs. He leans down, cradling her hips. She lifts her leg, or tries to, and instead ends up knocking his chin with her knee. He grunts, pushing her aside.

"Wh-what are you—?"

"Put my leg over your shoulder," she mutters in a rush, feeling sheepish.

He blinks. "Why?"

"It'll make sense once you do it, just—"

He doesn't look entirely convinced, but all the same, he lifts her leg from where it's sliding and hooks it accordingly. On the next thrust she bites her lip and it seems to dawn on him, then.

"O-oh," he mumbles, wide-eyed. "Oh, fuck." He gazes at her, awestruck, eyes lighting up. "Annie," he says hoarsely, "did you—did you feel—?"

"Again," she tells him, and he's already drawing her other leg up.

The very nature of it turns urgent; she trembles as they meet, press-for-press, scattering papers in the process, the sound of it slick, weirdly obscene in the tiny room. Eventually his self-control seems to snap; with a growl he all but rams her forth into the desk with a heavy _thud_. Annie gasps; from the opposing side of the wall comes a muffled shout. Something like panic emerges in his eyes. She grins, wolfish. Eren swallows hard.

"Door's locked," Annie tells him lazily. He startles, eyes back to her again. "You aren't going to stop?" she inquires, switching back to nonchalance.

"If you really want me to, sure," he says, looking solemn despite the colour in his cheeks. She rolls her eyes; his mouth curls. "I didn't think you would," he adds.

"Eren," she snaps, grasping at his shoulders, nearly desperate.

Beaming, he starts to rock again. She loops her arms around his neck, panting. One moment, he's kissing her warmly, the next, burying his face in her shoulder with a tiny, wistful groan. She shudders at the feeling, and then he's got a hand between her legs and she's quick to follow, gasping shakily.

"I love it when you do that," Eren rasps, positively gleeful. Then he falters, almost guilty.

"What is it?" Annie asks.

"Your assignment…?"

A weary smirk. "I'll start working on it. Get off of me."

* * *

a/n: _…You know, upon reflection I_ _ **really**_ _should have given chapter two an NC-17 rating. I might come back and review this latest one with fresh eyes tomorrow._

 _At any rate, here's something I've never tried before: where should we go from here?, prompt-wise? Are there any takers in the audience?_


	6. a friend in need

a/n: ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST! Note that chapters 2-5 will get edited eventually, to some degree. For now, we have an old friend—it's the return of the educational fic, 19th century-style. Dun dun DUUUUNNNNN

Trivia/apologies at the end.

* * *

06\. - Shy/Fingers

Rating - NC-17

[CE]

* * *

Annie Leonhardt is something of a bad influence just as much as she is positive; for every new move he is taught, every conversation about the nature of humanity or some other topic of equal moral importance, so too does she introduce him to the practise of sneaking out. Eren has since learned a couple things:

First, that she is quite right about hand-to-hand combat being irrelevant in terms of an overall score, because lately they have been moving onwards into the many facets regarding proper care of their ODM gear, all the little belts and straps and gas canisters. Then there are the weapons—the blades that are hard enough to pierce a Titan's skin, and how to maintain the scabbards, the metal itself, what to do if it breaks, et cetera.

Second, and more importantly, that Annie's a lot more spontaneous than he had originally thought. This sneaking-out business isn't nearly as difficult as he'd imagined it would be. The lack of security within Academy is actually kind of disconcerting; whenever he tries to ask Annie about it, she just looks at him funny, like the reason is obvious and he's being obtuse on purpose but he _isn't_ , dammit, he really wants to know—

But he's getting off topic. Take to-day, for instance. They're supposed to be on stable duty. But, in the middle of the morning, he finds himself alone with her, walking towards an as-of-yet unknown destination.

The main grounds and the wilderness beyond this split the difference upon the field. At first he thinks she just wants to spar, for old time's sake. But she walks right across the grounds and continues on, into the trees. Now, either she's leading him to an early death, or…something else. Eren doesn't mind, really. He'd probably follow her anywhere, just to watch her talk—or do _other_ stuff, there's so much to think about when it comes to her. And it's not like a simple rendezvous is exactly a foreign concept to other soldiers—nor is it any less exciting, at least, where she's concerned…

Or maybe Annie's reckless behaviour is simply rubbing off on him a bit more than he'd care to admit.

Mist covers the earth where they tread and the forest only gets thicker as they progress. Eren wishes he would have brought a heavier jacket even though he's not yet significantly uncomfortable. The encounter itself starts off wordlessly, when she shuffles back into the safety of a nearby tree. Balanced on her heels, her legs shift apart and she glances languidly up at him, like she's daring him to do something.

Self-conscious, he looks around the general area but there's nothing but trees as far as he can tell. Annie's smirking when he looks at her next. Eren scoffs.

He moves in, forehead-to-forehead, just gauging her expression. She reaches up to pull him down, and then he's all over her. Her hands are in his hair, and her shirt gets shoved haphazardly up to bunch at her shoulders, her trousers quickly unbuttoned.

"You first?" he suggests.

Annie hums softly. She's quite ready, he discovers to his delight, and a finger quickly gives way to two—Eren kisses her mouth as she moans softly in response. Briefly, he halts his pursuit in favour of a hasty kiss to her pale throat, but returns soon enough to the task at present:

"You're…" He wants to say _wet_ but it sounds stupid in his head, so he swallows dryly.

"What?" she mumbles.

He sorta shifts his hand around. She grunts, wriggling to the touch. "You been thinking about this?" is what he comes up with.

Annie shudders wordlessly, which is not what he was expecting—he's used to at least _one_ snappish retort whenever he makes a comment like that. Still, she presses herself against him.

"Mm," she says, half-invested, her eyes lidded.

She's sensitive as well as pliant, he discovers. Very sensitive. Her noises are quiet yet audible, catching in her throat. She pulses softly in tandem with his ministrations, and he drags his fingers up inside until he's cradling her thus, in heel of his palm. He keeps his eyes on her face; rather, the fringe of her hairline, the tip of her nose, because she's looking away, panting softly.

"Hey, Annie."

She glances at him, dazed. He kisses her forehead.

"What are you going to do?" she asks, a little breathless.

"What do you want me to do?"

Her teeth graze her lip, deliberate. "Well…"

"Hm?" Eren cups her face, tilting her head up. She kisses him quickly, more of a suggestion than something substantial.

"Isn't it obvious, Jaeger? I want you."

"You have me," he replies, feeling rather brave all of a sudden. "Now what?"

She feigns thought, and then answers easily: "The rest of you."

He beams in spite of the terrific burst of flurries in his stomach, stepping back, hand on his belt. "Ah. A-are you sure?"

"Mhm."

She's almost coy in the way she draws herself up. He kisses her again, just for good measure, and withdraws his touch.

Her eyes flicker down to study the process below the waist—and the delight almost immediately fades from her features, a level of quiet horror entering her expression as though she's just been shot.

"What?" he asks, immediately on the alert, but Annie says nothing. He follows her gaze with trepidation rising in his chest. There's a shock once he sees it; his hand against the white of his chinos, stained ruddy.

"You're hurt," he says sharply.

Though flushed, Annie seems to regain her composure: "It's not—I'm only bleeding, Jaeger."

Eren's about to contest the point because it sounds absurd— _only_ bleeding?—but then it clicks.

"Do you want me to get you something for it?" he asks her.

"What?"

"If you're just—I can take you to the infirmary, and they'll get you something. I'd go for you, if you wanted." Annie continues to stare at him uncomprehendingly. Eren grabs her shoulder to keep her grounded. "Oi. D'you have anything for this?"

She shakes her head. "Back at the barracks—it's too late, though." She's scowling, her voice lowered to something much more furtive: "Fuck, I—I didn't think about it, I'm—"

"Never-mind that now, you've gotta let someone know that you're out of sorts. You can't be running around in gear and bleedin' like that."

She's downright incredulous by this point and for the life of him, Eren doesn't understand _why_ —obviously she needs help, and he's happy to provide it, however he can. But she isn't saying anything. Disgruntled, he makes an effort to wipe his hand on the tree. It doesn't help much. He's caught off guard, therefore, when Annie grabs his wrist. "Wh-what are you doing?"

She seems to hesitate, glancing from his still-tainted hand to her own waist. The silence between them subsists—for five, seven, ten seconds—before she gets to the point: "You could touch me."

Now Eren is the one staring incredulously at her. He's racking his brains for what little his mum or dad or even Mikasa have mentioned about this sort of thing, and even though he's not going to pretend he knows as much as any of them, he's pretty sure that's one thing that _won't_ help stop the bleeding.

When he points this out, Annie's frown—and the colour in her cheeks—deepens considerably.

"It's not about that," she insists, terse, "it'll just help with—with the pain."

"Oh," says Eren, feeling a little worse for her discomfort. He's still nervous, but also a little concerned, despite himself. "Does…does it hurt much?"

Shrugging, Annie responds: "I've had worse."

Eren figures this is her code for: _not good._ Not that she'd ever admit such a thing; she's a lot like Mikasa, actually, but at least Mikasa is considerate enough to give someone else a clue once the pain is too much to handle. As far as he can reckon, Annie doesn't give _anyone_ a clue about _anything;_ sometimes, her stoicism can be really vexing. But he just exhales, slow and shaky.

"Well, then, maybe I could…" —he strokes the inside of her leg, unable to verbalise the gesture— "Would that help you?"

"You're going to get blood all over you," she mutters hastily, as though to dismay him, but trembles all the same when he catches her wrists and brings both arms back to rest at her sides.

"Yeah," says Eren, "but y'know I'll do it, if…if it really helps you."

Annie gazes at him a long, long moment, eyes brimming with relief, lingering doubt, like she'd reckoned he was about to laugh or turn her away.

But all Eren does is offer her a nervous half-smile. "Look, I dunno how it feels for you, Annie. I'm not a girl."

This is what breaks the spell.

"Shut up," says Annie, scowling again, and then, under her breath, "not right now, please."

Feeling slightly better, Eren grasps for her waist with his clean hand. "D'you mind, then?" he asks, thumb hooking lightly into her trousers, inward and down. "I don't want to make a mess of you."

She shivers, and complies, lets him drag it all to her feet before kicking off her chinos like they've offended her personally.

His hand moves over her naked thigh and she looks away.

"Oi," says Eren. "Are you sure about this?"

"Are _you_?" she mutters, almost wary of him by this point.

"Well, this is about you, innit?" he says gruffly. "I oughta make you feel good."

She goes quiet, averting her eyes. It's when he starts stroking her again that she relents: "Nngh— _fuck_ , I dunno, I _dunno_ , just…"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No!" she snaps, exasperation tangible in her voice, melting when he parts her. "Unh. N-no, don't stop, please."

"Okay," he says softly, "I got you, I'm here."

She takes a shuddering breath. He parts her, rubbing slow little circles over her entrance and she's made no effort to spur him on. Her hands ball up at her sides. She looks anxious instead of eager, gnawing her lip.

Eren's never seen her like this.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asks.

 _"Yes,"_ she stresses, all in a breathy hiss, head snapping up. "Don't worry about me, I-I'm…."

She stops talking the moment he takes her 'twixt his fingers and thumb, her lips parted in soundless surprise. Eren kisses her temple. Thumb presses steady on her nerves until she gasps, moaning softly.

But Eren doesn't let up with her. He doesn't think of it. He'll see her _writhing_.

With one hand, Annie scrabbles feverishly at his chest for want of something better to do, while the other hand reaches down to stop him.

"Th-that's enough," she mumbles. "I'm ready."

He kisses her once, on the mouth, chastely. Tracing her again, she's well past slick. She groans quietly when he dips a couple fingers inside, and he's all the more anxious for the ease of it.

"You're still good?" he asks, unable to help himself. "Nothing hurts?"

Her eyes flutter, as does her breath. "Not because of you."

"Okay," he presses, nuzzling her jaw. "Now, what can I do for you?"

His response seems to snap her back into her typical manner; her eyes are sharp, her grip upon his wrist is tight, not enough to hurt but purposeful.

"Can you…?" she holds up her own hand, fingers crooked.

Eren blinks, frowning slightly.

"Inside me," she elaborates, going pink again.

She's quick to take back control, but she is still vulnerable, and Eren's unable to shake the notion that he could hurt her somehow. Gently, he begins stroking her.

She looks pleased; gradually, as his pace remains steady, she starts to become restless.

"E-Eren," she grunts, squirming again.

"I'm getting there," he says, free hand on her waist. "Relax." Now his palm flattens against her, his fingers curl carefully, and he earns a gasp for the trouble. Eren stops without drawing away. "Is that…?"

She feels a little… _rougher_ , right here. It's difficult to ascertain, but it doesn't matter because Annie's drawing him in again.

"Hah…" A subtle strain creeps into her voice even as she's raising herself to the touch. "Y-yeah. Yes, Eren."

A strange combination of lucidity and disconnection comes over him; with three fingers buried to the knuckle, it's an absolute, this trust between them.

"You oughta see yourself," he mumbles. "You're lovely."

"Jaeger," Annie groans through her teeth, turning her head away, unable to conceal her blush.

"But you are. 'Least, I think so."

She shudders softly, her brow furrowing. He wonders if she's still hurt and resolves to take his time, horses be damned. There's no need to rush her.

Gradually, her head tips back, her hips arch lackadaisically. And Eren, he's looming overhead like some enamoured shadow, and he takes in every little detail.

Her hair is still tied up, a little dishevelled, and she's shoved a hand up her own shirt, flushed all the way down to her throat and clavicle and—lower? he can't be sure—gripping his jacket like she's afraid he'll slip away.

He's drawing his fingers out to circle her again. Annie makes this halting, pleading noise, something between his name and a whine. She must be close. Or maybe it just hurts.

"It's all right," he breathes, regretting his choice in words even as he speaks because for Christ's sake, she's not a wounded animal, "it's all right, I've got you."

Her face contorts. Her fist smacks the tree at her side. He takes said hand in his.

 _"Relax,"_ he says, not-so gently this time. Annie squeezes his fingers so hard he swears she's trying to break them and her eyes screw shut, opposite fist curled over her mouth.

"Again," she speaks between gritted teeth, pushing back against the heel of his palm, "I-I need y— _unnh_." Moaning again. Accretion is warm and tacky under his nails but she's wound taut. Then Eren jumps a little; she's coming, or at least he thinks she is because she bears down on his fingers, inside and out. His pace relaxes, but Annie will have none of it:

"Don't!" she seethes, her manner heated but eyes and tone almost panicked, " _don't_ stop, keep going…"

Not about to contest the point, he complies, and it has her making these odd, broken little noises into the meat of her fist, like she's wounded. But she nuzzles into his chest by the end, winding down, and an unmistakable curl twists her trembling mouth. He strokes her a little, just to check that she's with him. She gasps, shudders. Then snorts.

"I shouldn'tve let you do that," she says, looking faintly appalled with herself. "Christ, Jaeger. I-I'm sorry."

Eren's confused, to put it mildly. Why is she the one apologising? "You asked me. I could have said no."

She grabs a fistful of his shirt, resting her forehead on his shoulder. Euphoria drains and gradually she becomes tense again. "That's not—just forget it," she grumbles.

"Are you all right?" Eren asks.

Her shoulders lift. "It's not going to make the pain stop. Just a little easier to deal with."

"Oh," says Eren, not sure if he feels better or worse. "Are you well enough to walk? There's still time to take you to the infirmary."

Annie stirs, but again, there's no snide rejoinder. He extricates himself from her grasp. She stares at his hand as he revokes it, the colour stark on her thigh. He leans down to hand her back her trousers.

"Thanks," she says gruffly.

"Yeah," says Eren, and does not watch her redress, tongue-between-teeth. To combat the horribly awkward silence brewing between them, he adds, unprompted: "My dad, he was a doctor, so I reckoned…." His ears turn pink. "I've never heard of anyone doing that before."

Annie won't quite meet his eye when she says: "We shouldn't do that again."

Eren laughs, both in a measure of guilt and relief. "Y-yeah."

When he gathers his courage, looks her way, he's surprised to see her smiling nervously.

"So," she says, looking rather rueful.

He offers his good hand. She takes it, like she's about to shake but he holds it firm.

"So," he echoes. "Infirmary?"

* * *

a/n: Right, you've made it here in one piece! So. Time for the educational bit.

I've covered menstruation in a past fanfic, **Hindrance** , and now we're apparently diving into the wonderfully unhygienic concept of menstrual masturbation. Spiffy.

Okay, so in the 1800s, masturbation was basically considered a sin due to religious reasons, and also physical and mental disorders, even venereal disease.

And as a refresher in regards to menstruation, pads were either homemade or the women walked around bleeding through their clothes—hence, in some places, like factories where there were a lot of women workers, they'd have straw laid on the floor to absorb the mess.

I'm not sure that the whole "menstrual masturbation to ease cramps" notion would be widely encouraged; however, since the world of Shingeki no Kyojin is in many respects, vastly different from the culture of 1800s Europe at that time, be it in regard to social views or technology, I then asked myself this: given the nature of the world SnK presents to us, could it be feasible that such knowledge would be circulating?

…are teenagers still a bunch of bumbling children? Would Eren, having lived a few years with his (adopted!) sister had experienced the trials and tribulations of a menstruating roommate?

Is Annie ever not a hardass?

Once I had all that sorted out, my way was clear.

Also, wow. I did it again. I rebooted the menstrual masturbation chapter AGAIN. XD I'm sorry, guys, I'm fairly certain this will be the only time it happens with me, in this fic or any other one. Can't imagine writing this again, but it's like chapter two: saw a crazy idea that was so outlandish it might work, and I ran with it into the setting sun.


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